The ongoing adventures of the trollface DM.

We're at our weekly Friday-night-dinner get-together.

The player of the rogue in the party asks said DM (all three of us and our wives/girlfriends/flings/other friends are there) "So, when are you gonna stop screwing me over on hide checks?" He replies, "You were in a tundra, there was no place you could've, unless you dug a hole."
"...that would've taken me like an hour, and still would've done me no good."
"Nah, you can dig through snow, it's pretty easy."
"...no, I can't really, and I don't have a burrow speed."
"Well, yeah, but you can swim through snow."
At this point, I pipe up, having been listening. "WHAT? No you can't."
"Well, yeah, if it's powdery enough."
I give him a look that 'incredulous' only begins to describe.
"And anyways, snow and ice are water, and you can make a swim check to swim in water, so you can swim in snow. That's just how the D20 system is."
"NOOOO, what the hell are you TALKING ABOUT?"

Luckily, the subject got changed then.

this is relevant to my interests.

Later on, I confront him about the EXP thing AGAIN. I tell him that
a) The rest of the party being almost 5 levels above us is really, REALLY not cool, and we're going to continue at their level, if we're going to continue at all.
b) That, yes, I triple-checked it using monsters I knew we fought, and he really, really is forgetting to divide by the number of players for EXP. His response this time?
"Oh, no, I've been doing that the whole time."
"...no you haven't. For example, the Ice Golem we fought was CR 9. We were level 4. That's a total of 6,400 EXP according to the DMG, which is what we got. However, that number needs to get divided amongst the players, so we should've each gotten 1,280 EXP."
"Oh, really? Well, whatever. Levels 1-10 are just learning how to play your character anyways."

So, yesterday, we go to the next session. I'm ready to roleplay my ass off and browbeat this guy into being a good DM (god dammit!), and I'm so prepared.

F5ing at the speed of light.

Well, one of our players is gonna be an hour late. Fine. I can wait. The DM tells me and the player of Frak that we need to make up something suitably epic for us to have gained 4.5 levels in the month that we're gone. I take one straight out of Cable and Deadpool and make up an elaborate story about how we take over and unify the warring Halfling Twin Cities, set up our own puppet government, and rebuild it into a powerfully economic, militaristic society (that pumps a lot of money into Magic and Psionic training as well). My Thrallherd levels helped. He tells us people are unhappy about the taxes (which are 20%). I tell him I lower taxes and craft a propaganda campaign to get the people happier.

The DM deems this suitable and gives us our cut of the tax revenue. I pocket it, expecting to give it back eventually to start an academy or something like that.

We spend time leveling up to 9 (lol 4 levels) and the late player gets there. Session starts.

Cue 3 hours real-time of buying items in town. Bored as hell.

Since Frak and I are in the Halfling Twin City, we pretty much can't do anything other than deal with the city. I send out some orders to develop the city's military better, and to reopen trade with other nearby cities.

The party is currently separated, and I have to more-or-less make up the idea that we "need to help them open a trade route to the big city" (it never got a proper name) in order to get the party back together. Realistically, Garry (I) would oversee the rebuilding of the war-torn newly-unified-under-my-shadow-power Halfling lands, but that would make a better book than D&D session, and splitting the party is generally an AWFUL idea.

So, we head back to town, and meet up with the rest of the party in the trade district, and catch up on the last month of time.

You sound like a dick. Quit letting rules get in the way of a good story.

>>9599818
i have a friend who looks just like that dog. well, if that dog was a person.

continue, OP, this DM sounds like a tool.

>>9599882
>good story
somebody isn't up to speed

Now, sitting with us at the tavern (suddenly; apparently he's been there the whole time), is the shopkeeper "Bob" whom I suggestion'd into giving me better prices (and the DM rolled percentile, twice for price advantage durr hurr). He overhears our accounts of unifying the Halflings and wants us to cut him a deal: he'll help restock a city with very little magic, as long as we cut the tariffs on his goods. Now, I don't trust the guy one bit (why should I?), and am a bit wary of this deal that seems to get him a lot more than it gets us. Frak tries to waylay his interest and says "We're not even the ones in power; we can't make that decision." Rolls a bluff check and FAILS. (Note: the DM asks me what the linked attribute for Sense Motive is, implying this guy has no ranks in it). I quickly pipe up, "Frak's just nervous about all this; yes, we have some power, but we're not the ones who can make that sort of decision." A bluff, yes, but not a big one. I roll a 34, which is apparently not enough (see note above for why I'm incredulous).

And then, Bob, to get his way, casts Suggestion on Frak. (Read: DM used it on a player).

>And then, Bob, to get his way, casts Suggestion on Frak. (Read: DM used it on a player).

OH WOW

Now, my character is furious about this. He makes the Psicraft check (we allow Psicraft to work because of Psi/Magic transparency) to know what happened, and does a quick Modify Memory on Frak to eliminate it. I tell him, in so many words, that there's no way we're going to make a deal with somebody who's going to use those sorts of underhanded methods to get his way, and that trust is an essential element in any business deal. Hypocritical, yes, but Garry is too haughty (INT 22 will do that to you) to give a fuck. Addakar (winged elf ranger) tries to tell me that I did the same thing to Bob, and I respond, OOC, "I never told anyone in character what I did; I just sold the items and distributed gold." He replied, "Oh... well, then I take it back, I suppose".

Garry is too pissed to get anything else done right then. He heads to the Winged Elf Embassy's hot tub to relax. He minor creations himself a nice cup, some grain vodka to go in it, and False Sensory Input's himself to make it feel three times as good. Frak tags along and joins in.

The party comes to visit us in the hot tub, but does not join in. They inform us of what we're going to do - return to the undead... place. They had found a treasure map, and it had lead them there! And there's treasure! And things to kill to level up! Of course we have to go! (Mind you, this is the place they killed the mummy lord and got 4.5 levels). I say, "So, we're going to fight undead. What about the Dresden Army and the elemental crystals?" They brush that off, and are quick to tell us about the awesome amounts of loot they found. Remember what I said about Garry not being motivated by money? Worst character choice, considering the group. He asks, "Well, are the undead raiding anything? Are they gathering more and advancing?" While the party has generally very little thought put into all of this, they manage to reveal that, no, it's just a bunch of mummies guarding their tomb, and the treasures they were buried with. And they want to raid it. I ponder how they plan on keeping "good" written on their sheets after this, but hey. The Druid manages to squawk out something about cleansing the place - a weak argument at best.

Even though my powers don't work on undead, even though there's no storyline associated with this place (it's just TREASURE MAP FOLLOW IT TO THE PREGENERATED DUNGEON WITH RANDOM MONSTERS AND LOOT), even though Garry as a character would NEVER go along with this, I begrudgingly agree, making up the excuse that I'm bored. I really should stop putting party cohesion first with these folks.

So, we set out the next morning. We opt to take the interdimentional travel boat instead of the regular boat. This costs slightly more money, but who cares - this is win forever unlimited money the RPG. We get to the, uh, desert in just a day. It would've taken only a week by regular boat. Quite the change in climate, considering the tundra is just a week north.

We get to the tomb. I try asking the DM what it looks like, and get about 3 different contradictory answers from him and the other party members. I still have no idea if it's even underground or not. We go to open the door. I think to myself, and look at the DM. I say, "This is probably going to be the strangest question you hear from me, but, does the door weigh more or less than 300 pounds?" He thinks for a second, and goes "less". I go, "Sweet, my Time Hop works, then. Door is gone." We head on in.

And then the trap bullshit starts.

>>9599919
I was just reading through the DMG the other day, and I could've sworn they put in a few paragraphs about why you shouldn't ever do this to your players.

>>9600000
9600000 get and all that shit

>>9600000
GET

>>9600024

Now, we have one rogue in the party, and he is the only character with trapfinding. He goes to make some search checks down the hall (the hall which had been previously cleared out). He rolls pretty damn well, but it's not enough, for this DM doesn't know how this shit is supposed to work. Either that or the DCs for the traps in here are astronomical. An alarm goes off, and acid fog starts spewing out the walls. He quickly attempts to disarm the trap, and succeeds with a roll of a 19 (plus hefty modifiers). He takes a little damage, but not so bad. We keep going.

Now, this is a 5 foot wide hallway. The Druid and the Ranger both have large sized pets, making them extremely hard to get around. Woo hoo.

Ranger opens one of the myriad doors. He gets hit with a dart poisoned with something CON drain. Ouch.

>>9600050

Frak keeps searching, now much warier, knowing there are a lot of traps about. Him and I comment on how somebody knew what they were doing, trapping the area like this. Obviously they want to keep us out. Of course, I kept my mouth shut about my actual thoughts - the DM randomly rolled on some trap tables, took a liking to some, and just threw them on the map. I doubt he even realized a WIZARD is required to make Acid Fog traps. Speaking of those, ANOTHER goes off further down the corridor. Frak moves swiftly to disable the trap (and immediately knows where it is?), but fails numerous times (with rolls like "15" before mods). He manages to get it done, but not before the acid burns some of his skin off.

He no longer really wants to be the leader in searching these tunnels, and starts bitching loudly (in character, of course).

We open another door. A THIRD ACID FOG TRAP GOES OFF. Frak goes, "Fuck this shit, I'm leaving. You guys can disable your OWN damn traps from now on, because this is bullshit." The druid casts a wind wall to disperse it, but only manages to trap it in the room with nowhere to go (or so the DM said). I am sick of this, and let my metagaming come forth. I yell, "ANYONE KNOW HOW TO DISPEL MAGIC!?" Father Brah does.

>>9600050
Con DRAIN....

....
Fuck this shit

>>9600091
That's what poison does, broski.

>>9600068

Now, Father Brah is a Cleric of Wee Jas, so of course it's one of his domain spells (and regular spells). No, he does not get points for having readied a useful spell today - in this campaign, divine spellcasters are spontaneous casters who have a spells known list equal to the entire class list. He prays for a standard action, and the trap's magic is dispelled. No roll or anything, it's just gone. Not how dispel works, but who am I to bring up something trivial like that?

We open another door (yes, this is a tiny hallway with a bunch of doors). Behind it is a MUMMY OH NOES. Initiative gets rolled, we start combat. Now, we're all still in this 5-foot wide hallway. Addakar, winged elf ranger, takes to the air to fly over the party and attack the mummy. Player of Frak gives a big HOLD UP. "We're in a 5-foot wide hallway. How big is your wingspan? It can't be less than 5 feet! Think of Angel from X-men. When he unfurls his wings, they're the size of a room!"

Now, I join in, knowing they don't have a good answer to this. "In most monster entries, like a Dragon, they're allowed to fly unless they're not 'squeezing', and there's no entry on 'wingspan'. However, I played an Avariel once, and I know what it says in their entry in Races of Faerun - they have a 12-foot wingspan, and that they can't fly unless their wings are fully extended. This same situation happened to me in that campaign, and I was unable to fly."

Addakar's player begins to get defensive, as we're talking about something that will make his character weaker (and he wants to always win). He says something about "always doing it this way" and how it shouldn't matter. He's right that it shouldn't matter - we've barely been playing the game called "D&D" at all so far.

>>9600103
No that's con damage
Drain is much more permanent

A little bantering later, he offers to just end it with "Fine, I can't fly whatever." The DM offers his best offer yet - "Well, he could fly sideways!" I look at him incredulously. "No, he can't. How many birds have you seen that can do that?" He says, "None, but that doesn't matter. It doesn't say he can't do it, so he can. That's just how the D20 system is!"

I look at him, and say, "No, that's not how it works. Your Air Bud defense isn't supported by ANYTHING. Stop hiding behind your weak understanding of the game - you're just a bad DM!"

The room is pretty much silent at this point. The DM says something about human error, Frak cracks a good joke, and we're moving on without too much awkwardness. Addakar is NOT flying, and we defeat the mummy pretty easily.

We head around a corner. Father Brah's Detect Undead spell (see above) reveals a shitton of undead around the corner. We just go and kill all of them in boring, generic combat with mummies. End session. We leveled up, despite the DM FINALLY getting EXP right. We're level 10. Yay. I continue with my thrallherd levels. I think on what powers to swap in to deal with these goddamn undead better. I see that I now have access to Plane Shift, and contemplate going on an interplanar vacation instead of "cleansing" the undead (read: casting hallow on the entrance and then proceeding to destroy all of them and take their burial treasure). I don't, because I'm gonna show up for at least one more session.

And so, I did, last Saturday.

i dunno what is going on here, but i have been reading it in Dean's voice, and that is allllright.

I'm a Thrallherd. I've been waiting for 24 hours, and a Nomad Psion Halfling teleports in to be my new friend. His name is Brad. Fuck yeah, Brad.

We head down a hallway into a room. The ranger (find traps cast upon him, see above if you're asking "who the hell readied that") is searching for traps the whole time, along with the rogue. (Interesting note: just noticed that 'find traps' is personal only; gj guys). The rogue, of course, is complaining that we really don't need to be here. We are. Because, uh, treasure. And stuff. No storyline, really.

In the next, very large (50x50) room, the ENTIRE floor falls out, revealing a deep pit. Reflex of 26 isn't enough to save our intrepid Halfling, and he falls downwards. The ranger (who is a winged elf) goes to save him, and his reflex of 25 isn't enough to swoop down and catch him. Brad does a quick dimension swap on the two of them to give him another chance, but it's no good - the Halfling is falling, the DM has decreed it. Nobody else is allowed to take reactive actions, Frak takes 7d6 damage from a 70-foot fall.

Mind you, the only reason the DM even had the floor fall out is because he rolled a "pit trap" on his random dungeon generator, and decided it was the entire room. And that no amount of search check could've found it because the mechanism was in the room. Bleh. Moving on.

All the doors leading out of this large room are now inaccessible to walking due to the floor no longer being there. Garry (me) remarks on the stupidity of the engineering; he is ignored. This is D&D after all; things apparently don't have to make sense.

So, Brad (fuck yeah Brad) levitates everyone around so we can check things out. We pick a hallway. I Time Hop the door away. We go in and check it out.

>>9600133
Oops, sorry, I read that as Con damage.
My apologies fair anon.

>Reflex of 26 isn't enough to save our intrepid Halfling,

>and his reflex of 25 isn't enough to swoop down and catch him

Your DM is a gigantic nigger.

>>9600196
>Mind you, the only reason the DM even had the floor fall out is because he rolled a "pit trap" on his random dungeon generator, and decided it was the entire room.
This guy is a nigger.

>Well, yeah, but you can swim through snow.

Still trying to wrap my head around this. What.

>>9599729
h T Tp: / / A T. K Í m m Ó á . $ E /

>>9600263
>>9600233
niggermind

>>9600233
>>9600263
Niggermind.

>>9600196

Brad remarks that he doesn't like undead, and offers to teleport everyone to a nice oasis he knows about. The party declines - we have to fight the amorphous sense of evil pervading this place that puts intelligent undead into 10x10 rooms and tells them to stay put until adventurers wander by.

Having gotten ourselves lined up nicely in this (once again) 5-foot wide hallway, doors open and combat starts. We're fighting 3 Mummy Lords, 4 Mummies, and 6 Wraiths. Cue SIX HOURS of BORING COMBAT.

Some highlights:
We enter the battle with "hide from undead" on, and the DM rules we DON'T get a surprise round - somehow, they 'knew' (even after failing their saves) that invisible things were nearby, and wasn't surprised when they were "closer than it thought" (DM's words). Apparently going "Oh, shit, they're right in front of me" (DM's words) doesn't qualify as "surprised".

The DM doesn't know how the miss chance for incorporeal creatures actually works - nobody actually has a +1 weapon (remember, they just have modifiers), yet they're damaging them just fine.

Astral construct is the best power. Tanking, damage, etc. Oh, and it's a construct, and thus immune to disease and con drain. Fuck off, wraiths.

Addakar tries to "ranged sunder" (can you even do that?) the amulet off of a mummy lord, because the other one they fought had one that helped it resist fire. Except, it's actually a ring, and it wasn't until after Addakar had wasted his turn that the DM informed him that he couldn't see an amulet on the Mummy Lord because it would be under its Half Plate and unhittable. Oh, and he didn't mention until combat was over that it was a ring. DERP all around.

>>9600275
>>9600281
Mindmind

>>9600275
>>9600281
Niggermindmind

>>9600275
>>9600281

Niggermind mind?

>>9600300
>>9600304
>>9600305
Stop this mind shenanigans, it's getting disturbing.

>>9600290

Brad (oh no Brad) gets Slay Living'd and dies. The DM gleefully reports that we are now unable to levitate around. Funny how, before this, Mummy Lords didn't even know how to cast spells. The Mummy Lord then proceeds to Animate Dead on Brad, to which I have to tell the DM, "well, he's now a 1 HD Halfling. You lose class levels when you become a skeleton or zombie." The DM is annoyed by this, greatly - he wanted to use his Psion powers against us.

At one point, when combat is going slow (SLOW), the player of Frak says sarcastically, "Who's having fun? I'M HAVING FUN!" The DM responds, "I'm having fun. Well, I had fun killing Brad."

I proceed to win the battle by putting up 2 Fire Walls facing each other on the far half of the hallway (filled with mummies), and then Crystal Sharding the mummy lords.

>>9600290
i hate your DM

>>9600300
>>9600304
>>9600305
>>9600313
Jesus fuck, what's happening here?

Mind mind mind nigger mind mind

>>9600322
does the DM just have it out for you, or is he just a general douchebag? I can't tell.

>>9600300
>>9600304
>>9600305
*cough*

...niggermind-mind-mind.

>>9600275
>>9600281
>>9600300
>>9600304
>>9600305

Absolutely superb.

>>9600322
My ex-wife's lawyer was less of a sadist.

>>9600322

Frak pulls off distilled awesome at one point. He's ranged only, Rogue/Shadowdancer. There's a mummy up his ass, and he can't move away to avoid AoOs. He had just gotten screwed on hiding - the DM told him a couple rounds ago that he didn't "need to roll a hide check; you're behind a corner, so you're hidden from anything anyways." He was denied to roll one after that. Because he never rolled one, when the mummy walked around the corner, it saw Frak immediately (durrr). So, Frak asks if he can hide - he's a shadowdancer, so he just needs to have a shadow nearby, of which there are plenty. The DM says "yeah, but you'll get an AoO from the movement" (strangely, following normal rules THIS time). Frak responds, "Well, a 5-foot step is movement, and I just need to move." The DM concedes, Frak rolls high on Hide and MS, and is hidden. He can then attack the mummy, get sneak attack (explanation coming) and doesn't provoke an AoO because he's hidden before the attack. Baller. I’m sure there’s something not quite rules-legal about this, but it’s awesome all the same.

Speaking of that weapon, it's a +0 Wounding Ghost Strike Shortbow. Yes, you read that right. A magic shortbow, with no enhancement bonus, and two melee-only enchantments. No problems in this campaign! Also, Frak asked the DM if he could retcon into having bought Ghost Strike (lets you deal damage to undead with crits and sneak attacks) beforehand. The DM tells him he can take a (small) EXP hit and get it. I rolled my eyes at that, but he got it, and was no longer totally useless in this "area with only undead forever".

>>9600169
>what's happening here
ITS MOTHERFUCKIN STORYTIEM

ENOUGH OF THE HIVEMIND, THANKS

>>9600372

When Addakar attacked at one point, he did a full-round action. He had been having trouble getting a hold of what you can do in a round (and had explained it several times), but this one takes the cake. He said, “Okay, I’m going to do Manyshot Rapid Rapid, right?” The DM tells him OK, and he starts rolling the dice. I say, “You can’t do that. Manyshot is a Standard action.” Proceed more inability to understand how a round in D&D works, and Addakar getting defensive (again) about us nerfing his character to fit in the rules. He claimed (a lie) that this is what we’ve been doing the whole time. I let this one go after a while – combat was going awfully slow already (15 minutes a turn, no joke.)

A large sized pet died. Another one almost died. DM seemed to have it out for pets today. (BRAAAD! NOOO! Oh well, next one will be better able to defend himself.) We defeated the enemies eventually. At one point Addakar said "Don't worry, we're gonna win”. I pray my players never say that in my campaign - it means I have messed up, badly. Oh, also, we leveled up after all of this. Yay, level 11.

>>9600372
>+0
My Bag of Wat produced something less distressing than that.

>>9600157
>>9600157
>>THRALLHERD

I HAVE DETECTED THE PROBLEM; IT IS YOU!

>>9600417
ONE OF US, ONE OF US

>>9600417

And let me remind everyone, this is a campaign that the DM has supposedly been working on for a YEAR. He's been worldbuilding and writing stories for a year's time. This was also supposed to be roleplay-heavy and storyline-driven. And what we got was randomly generated dungeons, randomly generated monsters and traps, a lackluster plot (when there is one), ignorance and blatant abuses of the rules, extreme misunderstandings of how D20 works, and what amounts to an "I win forever" campaign with no imagination behind it.

The best part? I now have the powers to TPK them in 1 to 2 rounds. Schism, Twinned Synchronicity, Mind Crush, Dominate, etc.
This is the end of the information Saburo sent to me. DISCUSS.
And let me remind y'all, these were his adventures, I'm just laying it down because he has bad internet.

>>9600433
All of the shit that came up in the last thread and this one, and that's what you think?

Man.

>>9600417
Is Addakar's player normally this much of a dick?

>>9600465

My thoughts? Your friend Saburo is going to TPK those motherfuckers in a horrifically delicious manner, and walk out of there with an enormous trollface on.

And he will tell us the story of how he drank their tears.

>>9600466
>Thrallherd
Comparatively, OP's a saint in a whorehouse, with the DM as the sadistic, inept madam.

>>9600466

From what I understand, he's new to the game in every sense of the word "new."

Frak and Garry (who is played by Saburo) are veterans, and this is their DM's first campaign.

>>9600496
I hope so. I've coincidentally been around for every one of these threads in their original context, and I depserately want a satisfying conclusion.

....hhmmm...with all the minds in here, I could let my intellect devourer swarm loose, and add more to my collection....

>>9600465
Dude, if the other players are having fun, tell him not to fuck it up for them. Just leave the game, or hell, offer to run a one-shot or two and try to give the DM some pointers while your at it.
Just don't fuck up other people's entertainment because you're not having fun.

>>9600513
Okay then, wait.

That's an entirely different matter. Everyone's first time taking up the job is complete shit no matter what anyone claims. Best route I see is to take it as a group and talk through all the problems.

And just in case anyone was wondering, our group is getting back together, probably on the 19th-23 later this month.

At which point we will play out part two of the adventures of Saburo, Al'Sham Wyles, the Halfling, and Joseph Knock.

>>9600559
I'm not a trained fireman, but I can spot a burning house a mile away. That DM is salting the earth of gamers he encounters.

Thanks much to storytiem for posting this for me; my internet's way too flaky right now to have done this at this speed

.>>9600466
Addakar's player has always been a little weird. His attitude is "we're gonna win", and not in a good way - he wants to just always win. Anything that could possibly weaken his character is seen as a personal affront to him. I don't know what he's like outside of the game, as I don't hang out with these people.

>>9600496
If I even go back. If I do, that is probably what will happen. Well, maybe nothing permanent - show them that I can, and plane shift out.

>>9600559
The DM is a player in my other campaign on hiatus, and is in the campaign that has replaced mine. He's bad as a player AND a DM. We've tried teaching him and helping him out, but it's really no help. I will likely not be going back.

Also, I was actually incorrect - everyone in that campaign has played D&D before. None of them are new. How much they have played is an unknown, however.

>>9600607
>played
>understood
You can run the best quarter mile on Earth and still be a failure of epic proportions when you realize its at the Indy 500.

>>9600594
Well, there's no helping it.

If it goes out with a fizzle, you won't feel bad but if it goes out with a bang you'll have a great story out of it.

>>9600636

I like this analogy. Consider it stolen.

>>9600671
Steal at will, anon.

>filthy rogue scum

>>9600695

and here I am without a CRIMINAL SCUM marco. oh dear.

>>9600433
Also, what's so bad about the Thrallherd, seriously? I can say that it's a bit powerful as a prestige class (could use a bit of a nerf), but except for specific abuses that work just as well as regular Leadership, I don't really see it being a campaign breaker. If you ban Leadership, Thrallherd is out too, and this conversation is moot. Besides, you lose manifester levels, and unless you're allowing Complete Psionic's Practiced Manifester, you're taking a BIG hit.

But, seriously, Brad was awesome, you cannot deny that. His concept was "Life is a highway" - the Gods had granted him powers that let him travel, so he has devoted his life to just that. He had defensive powers, transportation powers, and a single attack power - all he really wanted was to see everything the universe had to offer him, from any angle possible. He had mad ranks in things like Know: Geography and Nobility, simply because he had talked with so many people and seen so much, he'd picked up on that sort of thing. If fleshed out, I might have given him Bard levels or something else that gives a Bardic Knowledge analog.

>>9600576

I agree completely. There's really no "first" campaign or character that goes well, especially when someone starts testing the waters of chaotic neutrality.

My sister has gotten off of youtube (thank God), and it's stopped raining, so my internet has stopped being as shitty. Who wants to hear about session one of the campaign the player of Frak is DMing while mine is on hiatus?

>>9600816
Go ahead, though I won't be here to read it.

>>9600816

>>9600816
Hell yes man.

>>9600816
Keep it coming, I just finished reading the first two archived threads mentioned in OP.

Goddamn this shit is awesome.

>Nearly two in the morning
>Chem exam tomorrow
>New storytime just starting

HHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH

I like how this campaign pretty much devolved into straight-up warfare. Completely justified, too.

>>9600816

PRO~CEED!

>>9600816

>>9600918
Same boat anon, 'cept mine's a Stat exam

>>9600918
>>9600947

CLEARLY SOMEONE MUST ARCHIVE THIS SHIT

>>9600935
>>9600942
Proceedmind.

>>9600918
You said this in the Atomic Robo dump. Go to bed.

>>9600848
If enough people like it, we'll just throw it up on suptg.

I apologize in advance for my slow typing.

Allright, so, lemmie tell yall about this campaign. I was getting burned out on DMing - the Underdark campaign (see suptg thread "saburo's storytime") has been going for MONTHS, with a campaign before that one. I told the players this, and the player of Frak said that he wanted to try his hand at DMing. Perfect opportunity! Teach somebody about DMing and get to play for a bit.

So, he thinks up a storyline skeleton, and tells us the backstory (level 3 start). We're all from a medium-small village, out in the wilderness, and we all knew each other from our childhood. We get told that we have to tell the DM our story - whether we left the small town to seek fame and fortune, if we stayed and helped our families, etc. That, and the reason we're all back together is for the funeral of a guy we all knew.

I roll up Davtlin Serpenthelm. You can call him Dav, though. Dav is GOOD AT SPORTS ARGHH. He's got the Jotunbrud feat (he's quarter giant), is 7'4", 260 pounds, and in great shape (18 str, 12 dex). He's a Psychic Warrior, and focuses on grappling. He doesn't actually think he's psychic at all - he thinks he's been blessed by the gods of nature, in particular the great Bear God. He has a habit of wrestling bears. He's not the brightest of the bunch, but he's rather good-natured. He also hates wizards, because some asshole wizard ruined his momma's girl parts (or so he believes).

(rest of the party in next post...)

>>9600963

>>9600991
>ruined his momma's girl parts

lol wat

>>9601010
Well. My bad.

>He's a Psychic Warrior, and focuses on grappling. He doesn't actually think he's psychic at all - he thinks he's been blessed by the gods of nature, in particular the great Bear God. He has a habit of wrestling bears. He's not the brightest of the bunch, but he's rather good-natured. He also hates wizards, because some asshole wizard ruined his momma's girl parts (or so he believes).

ok, off to a good start

>>9600991
I must profess, I have forgotten a couple of the character's names - we've only had one session, but I feel bad anyways.

DM's wife rolls up a Ranger/Scout (using Swift Hunter when she gets to level 5). Short tempered and blunt to a fault, but intensely loyal to her friends. She has lived in the village her whole life, training as a woodsman (woodswoman?).

(names changed to protect the innocent), J (player of the Necro in my campaign) rolls up a dark-skinned human bard. He wants to be a rapper, which the DM shoots down. He wants to be named Biz Markey, too, to which the DM says "serious names only". He ends up named John "little" Wayne, which is normal enough. He also took perform: oration (not rap), so we determined that he's actually Obama.

S (player of the insane alienist in my other campaign) makes a Druid with a reserve feat and the "shapeshift" variant. Basically, he turns into a wolf and shoots fireballs from his eyes. Not much more needs to be said.

And, finally, the DM of the campaign you have been reading about, also rolls up a Ranger. This is fine that we already have one, as the DM told us to make characters naturally and not worry about party balance (it's not like we would have a "balanced party" growing up together). However, he rolls up an ELF ranger. Now, I had already determined (and told people) that Dav is a liiiiitle racist against elves. I mean, all they do is pussyfoot around, hug trees, and make spells. You ever try to tackle one? NO! You'd break it! And besides, they all look like women. And half of them are Wizards, and you can't trust wizards - no sense of right and wrong.

>Druid with a reserve feat and the "shapeshift" variant. Basically, he turns into a wolf and shoots fireballs from his eyes

How does that work, rules-wise?

>>9600963
>>9601010
>>9601135

This entire exchange amused the hell out of me.

>>9601204

>>9601238

FUCKING SAVED

>>9601147
Anyways, upon hearing this, he keeps the Elf, but fashions himself a disguise so that it won't be known that he's an elf upon sight. Mind you, he never actually rolled anything, and the DM straight up TOLD US we'd be able to recognize each other on sight. So, he's more or less wearing the Groucho Marx glasses and moustache, along with a ridiculous beard. At the funeral for a childhood friend, in a town that knows who he is. Yup.

The first session starts off with us all arriving at the town and hunkering down for the evening. Dav stays with his mom, as he's been out living elsewhere. Prudence Jackson (just remembered her name, the DM's wife's character) is lodged up, Talon (druid) is staying somewhere in the wilderness, and John is at the inn/tavern. As we were all friends of (can't remember the damn guy's name who died), we get to the grounds of the funeral early. We all catch up a bit on life. What had happened to Steve (i think was his name), was that he had found himself a Quall's feather token of a tree, activated it, and was crushed. Dav shakes his fist at the tree, but knows it won't do him any good.

And then the badDM's character shows up. Let's call him Craig, because I don't think he ever introduced himself properly. It was some elven name that nobody could pronounce anyways.

"Craig, how have you been? And why are you wearing that ridiculous disguise?"

>>9601172
Shapeshift variant is in either PHB2 or CAdv, reserve feats are in either CMage or CArc. Can't look up, must type.

Sorry for the slow last post. I was looking for the player's character sheets to see if they got left at my place.

Is that it?

>>9601409

No there's more coming

>>9601277
Craig is rather un-fazed by this, and kinda nods in my direction.

The funeral happens. It's very somber and everything. John tells an epic tale of how Steve was a great man who lived a full life, and it was only tragic that it ended so soon. The crowd is quickly in tears.

After the funeral, John and Dav head to the tavern to get drunk. Craig goes with, but is shunned by the barkeep because he orders juice.

Dav begins singing a song about how great Steve was, and the barkeep tells him to keep it in check. He responds, "Well, things have certainly changed since I was around", pays for his drinks, and leaves. John stays, gets his flask filled up and chugs a bunch more.

Night falls, day rises.

Dav heads out for his morning run (we know something's gonna happen soon - it's a 'too quiet' kind of situation). To make things more difficult on himself, he carries John on his back. As there is now a 7'4" man running through the woods, the rest decide to follow him. Dav remarks, nonchalantly, that it would be nice if he could find a bear to wrestle, as he hasn't in a while. Talon wanders off in the woods, but not to find a bear.

Prudence and Craig go to find a bear. Dav keeps running, not even noticing that they're no longer following him. They find a momma bear and a bear cub. Prudence decides, wisely, that this isn't something she should be dealing with, and heads back to the path to find the possibly lost Dav carrying John.

However, Craig has other ideas. There's a bear in front of him. So, he heads towards it, not bothering to hide or move silent.

>>9601461
>However, Craig has other ideas. There's a bear in front of him. So, he heads towards it, not bothering to hide or move silent.
I LIKE WHERE THIS IS GOING

>>9601461
Now, like I said, this is a momma bear. A black bear. She is pissed that this elf is just walking straight towards her. Craig doesn't bother with Wild Empathy or anything, climbs a tree, and shoots an arrow at the bear. It's now VERY pissed off and coming after him. He plugs a couple more arrows in it, pulls out his scimitar for when it gets close, and hacks it up. Satisfied with the kill, he leaves it. And he leaves the baby cub alone, to die, basically. Craig heads back to town, not telling anyone (but with a couple splatters of blood on him).

And lemmie tell you what, even if this guy wasn't the DM of an awful campaign, he had stepped over the line in Dav's book. He's a guy who dislikes most elves, and feels an affinity to bears. And an elf just killed a bear for no reason. He doesn't know this happened, but if it ever comes to light, well, even a friend...

So anyways, Dav gets back to town with everyone, and there is a LOT of commotion and hubbub about town. Tacked to the door of the mayor's house is a note. The party heads over to see what's going on, and quickly figure out - the mayor's daughter has been captured by the Sallman family, and they demand a large ransom for her to be returned safely.

The DM explains that we would all know who the Sallman family are - they were a rather rich, rather inbred bunch who liked to take advantage of whatever they could. They were eventually driven from the village, and they set up their own encampment a few miles away. There's always been a sort of bitterness about the whole situation, and they have never been invited back.

The mayor calms the crowd down, and ushers the party aside. Being a group of level 3's (abstraction, of course), they're the ones easily most suited to go and deal with this situation. We, of course, agree to it.

But not before we have delicious homemade dinner at Dav's Mom's house. Aww yeah. Mrs. Serpenthelm makes hell of good food.

>>9601172
It doesn't. First example of rules bending, since shapeshift variant of druids cannot cast spells while shapeshifted. It can, however use any supernatural abilities the character may have.

>>9601642
That's what I thought when I made that post, but that's where the Reserve feats come in (CMage).

>>9601642
Reserve feats are supernatural abilities, iirc. Can't check now, must keep typing.

>>9601642
Natural Spellcasting, from Book of the Wild.

Allows you to cast while Wildshaped.

Eagles with Flameblade = win.

>>9601687
That doesn't work with the shapeshifted varient, last I checked.

The reserve feats would, however.

>>9601710
I shall consult relevant texts, whilst awaiting further details about our man with the plan, Craig.

Go, Craig, go!

>but if it ever comes to light, well, even a friend...
well, doesn't that sound ominous

>>9601622
The party gathers up their various means of transportation (mostly horses), and sets out. John is given a ride on somebody else's horse, as his own is there just to carry equipment and feed in a cart, and is unsuited for riding.

We get to the Sallman compound after a bit, and note that it looks a lot more like a fort than anything else. Still, they are welcomed in without too much of a fuss, and their horses are taken care of. They are somewhat forcefully herded inside of the largest building there - an elegant mansion. Inside, they are greeted by a human butler, who introduces himself as Jeeves. Jeeves asks if anyone wants anything to drink. John (being a wee bit alcoholic), asks for some. Jeeves runs off.

Nothing happens for a bit. Dav sits down. The party, by the way, is decked out in battle gear - we have our weapons, and Dav is wearing full plate.

In to the room strolls a reasonably tall man, neatly trimmed dark black hair, tasteful facial hair, and wearing very expensive-looking and long robes. He says, "Greetings, and good day to you all. I am the head of the Sallman family. If you will, please address me as Mr. Sallman. Now, has Jeeves offered you something to drink yet?"

Everyone is taken aback by this man's hospitality. After all, he knows full well who we are, or at least should have a really good idea.

>>9601755
I like that part a lot.

That should be fun >: 3

Also bump, because I am enjoying this thread

plz continues

>>9601777
John replies, "Yeah, I did, but he hasn't come back yet." Mr. Sallman looks a bit displeased at this, but doesn't call Jeeves back in.

Prudence looks him square in the eye, and says, "Where's Rachael?" (the mayor's daughter).

He replies, "Oh, her, that's such sordid business; it MUST wait until after we have had a good meal. Come, into the dining room, a feast will be made up shortly."

"WHERE is RACHAEL?"

"Never mind that, we'll get to business soon enough. Now, to the dining room. And, all of you, especially you, tall one, off with your armor. Nothing spoils a good dinner like being badly dressed."

Dav looks at him kinda funny. "Nah, I'll be keepin' mine on, thanks. Not that I don't trust you, but I don't trust you."

"Oh, surely you must be..."

Dav is tired of this pompous ass, and grabs him by the shoulder, and yells, "YES, yes, you're absolutely right! We must feast! Into the dining room with us all!" all while dragging him along. Not like there's much he can do about it.

Places are quickly set by servants at a grand table... except there aren't enough seats by one. This is pointed out, and Mr. Sallman looks at John and says, "I'll have a special table set up for somebody of your kind." Remember that he's black. A little table is set up nearby, with clearly cruder silverware. John isn't gonna take it, and moves it all to the main table. Mr. Sallman chuckles.

Taking way too long :P

>>9601945
Very fine food and drink are brought out by a multitude of servants. Mr. Sallman attempts to get to know his new guests, mostly by berating them and their families. He asks each of them in turn what their family name is.

"Ah, Serpenthelm, you're the one rumored to be half giant. I surely hope your mother is doing fine, yes? No great financial issues as a single mother? Good, good."

"Jackson. No family, if I remember. Raised by the community instead of a family. That would explain your lack of manners and grace, my dear."

"Ah, silverymoon. The only elf family in town. Glad to see they had a son, finally. One who can grow such wonderful facial hair, too. I'd almost say you're half-elf, rather than a purebreed!"

"Your name is Talon? The one who strode in in the shape of a wolf. That one gains such strange abilities from simply living outside has always been fascinating to me, you must tell me later."

"Ahh, the Wayne family. Last, and certainly least, of our guest. The niggers, still pumping out children like dirty rabbits, I see. Well, you haven't defecated on my floor yet, so I'll let you stay at my table for the moment."

Everyone is getting uncomfortable at the conversation so far, but are shocked at this.

bump

>>9602076
also, for the record, i lol'd.

i want to see this fuck get his shit rocked

Now, see, your GM started off so well.....

>>9599729
h T tp : / / À + . k I m M Ó @ . $€ /

>insult
>insult
>insult
>not really an insult at all
>WHOA ok I guess you're going there
Tell me the DM is just trying his best to make this guy hateable

>>9602076
Wat

I'm expecting that the missing girl is what's for dinner.

>>9602147
>I am derp

>>9602179
that'd be a neat tweeest

>>9602076
As an aside, the DM is far from actually being racist.

John doesn't explode into anger, nor anything like that. He keeps his cool, and explains how he makes his money as a bard, which elicits a laugh from Mr. Sallman. He says, "You know, being a nigger like yourself is only a downside. I'm a wizard, and have been working on a wonderful spell to turn you white. I'll do it for free, if you only let me test it on you."

John is about to let loose a flurry of words to cut this man down to size., when Prudence says, "cut the bullshit, alright? Where's Rachael? That's the reason we came here, so let's get to business!"

Mr. Sallman sighs a bit, and says, "Yes, well, you've ruined dinner enough already, let's get to it. Rachael is being very well taken care of. She is unharmed, is being well fed and cared for, and is only not permitted to leave here. We simply ask for a sum of gold, and she is free to go. Nothing more, nothing less. She has no use to me anyways. You have brought the money, yes?"

We have not. The meal continues in silence for a minute, when a cacophony of crashes and shouts begins to well up from the outside. Mr. Sallman doesn't say anything. The noise gets louder. Prudence and Dav do a quick glance out the window. The guards and groundskeepers are DYING because there are HUNDREDS OF GOBLINS SWARMING THE GROUNDS HOLY SHIT.

Mr. Sallman is informed of this, and looks at them quizzically. "Why should we interrupt dinner? I'm sure it will be over soon enough. Once you start dinner, it's incredibly rude to stop. you know."

Well, the party is getting VERY nervous at this point. The noise is getting louder and louder, and hands are moving to weapons.

The door to the dining room bursts open. Behind it are a shitton of goblins.

I like where this is going.

I'm lolin

>>9602167
My thoughts exactly

>>9602269
You know, this sounds like a fairly awesome DM. He's not perfect, sure, but I'd play in his games.

>>9602269
Sallman stands up, furious. He yells at them, "Foul beasts! How dare you interrupt my meal!" They really don't give a shit, and tear him to fucking pieces. Nothing left but a pile of disgusting meat and a few screams. One of the goblins looks at the party with a fire in its eyes, and yells, "WHERE IS RACHAEL!?"

A clutch diplomacy check from John calms him down and lets him know that, yes, we're looking for her too, and that we're not friends of the now-very-dead Mr. Sallman. The lead goblin yells something to the rest, and goblins swarm in to the building. They start tearing it apart - ripping up and breaking anything they can see, tearing down walls, etc. They are in search of Rachael, and nothing is gonna stop them.

Talon goes to examine the, uh, remains of Sallman, and grabs his keys. He leads the party over to a cellar he noticed earlier, and unlocks it. We head down, along with a few pissed off and nasty goblins. A couple of guards step from the shadows 20 feet in front of us, but are quickly dispatched. Rachael is there, in a cell, not nearly as well taken care of as Mr. Sallman had claimed. The head goblin, having caught up, yells, "GET her OUT NOW!" With no other choice seeming reasonable, Rachael's cell is unlocked.

And the goblins are happy! They're all grinning, and laughing. Rachael is glad to see them, too. Everyone heads outside of the decimated Sallman camp. Rachael explains that these goblins are her friends, and that she has been helping them out. Their tribe lives nearby here, and she was captured while at there camp. "Well, how in the world did you make friends with GOBLINS?" She replies, "I'm teaching them. They're not like regular goblins - they want to learn to read and write. I've been helping them out, showing them a better way to live their life, than just being brutal savages."

>>9602433
oh god wat.

>>9602433
when i thought it couldn't get better

>He says, "You know, being a nigger like yourself is only a downside. I'm a wizard,
>I'm a wizard
>They really don't give a shit, and tear him to fucking pieces

I smirked

>>9602410 here
>>9602433
Yeah. Disregard that, I suck cocks. Well, your DM does, anyway.

"I'm teaching them. They're not like regular goblins - they want to learn to read and write. I've been helping them out, showing them a better way to live their life, than just being brutal savages."

These goblins wouldn't happen to be sad, would they?

>>9602494

No.

Pleasing

>>9602494
beat me to it

>>9602433
The goblins are enamored with the party - especially those with magical powers. John shows off some cantrips, Talon turns into a wolf and throws some fireballs, and Dav uses some awesome powers like Claws of the Beast (Claws of the Bear) and Expansion (Bear Size), which puts them in awe. The leader goblin introduces himself as Grom, and tells everyone in the party, "We want to learn to do what you do, to achieve wondrous feats like you have."

With the strangely happy ending (for some), we head back to our little village, and are hailed as heroes by the folk there. We go and talk to the mayor, who hugs his daughter tightly, and then gives her an intense stare. "You weren't out with those goblins again, were you?" She turns away, and says, "I only just got home, dad, and..." A bit torn, he tells her he'll talk to her later.

The party discusses payment. Since the Sallmans are no longer a problem, even if the party wasn't really involved in that. They're given part of what was being gathered for the ransom money, and head off to drink and tell stories to the rest of town.

And that, my friends, is where the first session has left off. Where this will go from here, nobody knows.

And no, none of the goblins are sad. They're actually a genetic mutation of regular goblins (see the Blue from the XPH, he based it on that). He's never read Goblins, and he doesn't visit /tg/.

This had the potential to be awesome...

Story solved! BY THE DM. Derp.

please to give mustache ride from goblin?

>>9602551
It's the guys first time ever DMing anything ever, and this scenario (he told us beforehand) was more of a backdrop than anything else. But, yes, Mr. Sallman being taken down by the goblins was a touch lame. Then again, we never jumped him either (we would've been justified at more than a couple points...)

>>9602551
eh, for the first session run by a first-time DM it doesn't sound so bad
and who knows what he's got planned from here. it could be part of some much larger plot

>>9602433

>>9602576
Sallman getting gobboraped was a nice touch.

>>9602477
did you even read the first half of the thread? this guy DMs for the first time and is better then the other one

>>9602576
>Then again, we never jumped him either
He DID say he was a wizard. Maybe there would have been an actual fight if you had attacked?

>>9602650
No, it was a joke
Racist, Wizard.
Get it?

>>9602576
Yeah, I'll agree - badass with a small touch of lame. Though that touch of lame could've been SO MUCH BETTER. I am eagerly awaiting moar storytiem.
>>9602551 here, btw

>>9602671
Wait a second.
...
DOHOHOHO

>>9602671
Geh. To busy in fantasy mindset

>>9602671
Uhm... was he a ... BLACK MAGE?

>>9602716
facepalm.jpg

I get it now.

Dav hates wizards anyways, and would've takckled the sombitch if he actually had any spells.

>>9602712
I know. I didn't get it either until I thought about it.

I actually do have one story if Storytiem doesn't mind tossing the reigns for a bit. It's nothing major, just my characters going through a slag filled room losing consciousness the entire time until the room finally gives way from the extreme heat of the molten metal.

>>9602742
Floor's open, my two stories for the evening are finished. Go right ahead.

>>9602742
Just heard three major buzzwords for a good story:
>molten metal
>losing consciousness
>slag-filled room
This story could focus on the dating habits of Elmo and Waldo, and still wind up better than average.

>>9602742

Go for it. The only stories I haven't yet told are about the first campaign I DM'd, and a gestalt campaign in which I played a meat-manifesting psion. I will wait my turn though, or save those for another occasion.

>played a meat-manifesting psion
write that shit up, then give it to us another time

ohai

So the story revolves around the new system I've been brewing, Namely one that uses a new dice system to replace the D20. I'll drop a PDF sometime, it isn't quite finished yet. Mainly, it breaks down things into a rank, Which is the die you role, and a skill level, how effective it is, the /- and the times you can do it.

We have at the time playing, Someone that forms blades Via casting spells, an achelmist, a cleric mercenary, a trick-shot, and a gambler. These were made using a unique system that basically combines two classes into one with certain skills being used and others tossed aside. I've DM'ed an entire two sessions, but read up and planned this out. It's just something boo-booed up to test out how the dice rolled and how the system works. But here we go...

First thing first, the party is part of the king's task force, 21'st division to be exact. The other twenty weren't covered, but they are mostly militia and country defense. 21st is special, they are the king's 'traveling players ' (play on words dohoho) Whenever something calls for a not-so-diplomatic solution, for example an elven prince that doesn't like the king cutting down a forest to prevent his kind from dying, the players get to go on an relaxing vacation to the capitol and shove a poisoned dagger in his side to let loose the hot air that resides inside his whiny ass lungs.

This is their first mission and their acceptance mission. There was a drawven mine some ways away that holds "the vault" which is a ancient door that was stumbled upon by said dwarfs and was never able to be opened by any means. It needed three gems, a key, and a pint of blood from something in order to open. They assume blood because, hey, it's a black door with red runes, you assume it takes blood.

They assume liquid because it had a small indention similar to a bowl on the top of the door.
... Contained in next post in a sec, dog needs to take a piss.

>>9600991
>>9601147
is this Dav?

>>9602997
I really hope that this is the dwarf logic, not player logic because then it is a hell of a lot funnier.

>>9603065
Kinda. He's a bit of this too.

I've just been informed that this thread is on suptg now. So, I'll get the rest of whatever stories there are, tomorrow. I am HELL of tired.

So they get to said mine, which is of course by fantasy means, a mine that holds a door that can't be opened, and no one has gone inside it for some time. It's abandoned.

Inside they walk, for about 3 minutes with no interuptiong, when the alchemist is suddenly grabbed by his leg and drug into the ground, the gambler BARELY grabbing him. What's pulling him under is a Trapdoor spider the size that he is. It takes most of the party to pull him up but this only pisses the big motherfucker off, who then proceeded to pull itself out of the hole and attempt to eat the entire party.
A few minutes later (It had about 120 health, 40 for the body, 10 for each leg, kill the body it's dead, kill a leg, it starts bleeding from it's body. Basis of combat system. They work the same, huge pool, but split between limbs. Hurt enough, it breaks. 0 it's bleeding out.)

Turns out for them, they are actually a hive mind intellegence led by a bigger spider they haven't seen yet. They go through fighting 1 or 2 spiders at a time, get poisoned, cured, yay, treasure, and then here comes the fun part.

They are at a door. It's about 10 feet tall, and 6 feet wide. It has dwarven runes on it that are glowing red. They think it's evil, the cleric basically says "You're all dumb-asses, that's just heat"

They think for a second.
"Is there any other way to where we need to go other than this door?"
"Nope."
"What's behind it?"
"You read "Furnace."
They go back to a workstore that holds the blueprints for this mine.

And here starts the fun.

>>9603135
>"Furnace"
This bodes well.

>>9603069
Yeah, that's all dwarf. They decided it's unopenable after several days of their strongest warrior hammering the fuck out of it with a hammer of force didn't work.

So they find the room. It's 25 by 20. It's big, and it's a workshop. Anvils, giant slag pots, the works. Someone had left said furnace on and it's been going for about god knows how long running on magic alone and now it has gone haywire. They find out that it goes up a good 60 or 70 feet in the air, It having different levels of floors, scaffolding, chains, ladders, ect. and that they need to get to the top floor.

They realize that this is an oven that only gets hotter as time goes on, and that they have almost no heat protection aside from the dwarven suits that don't fit them.

The next ten minutes is at the door, with the apporpriate party members giving speeches. The cleric, being the smartest, explaining heat and it's effects on the body, the 'rouge' members teaching a primer on proper jump techniques and sprints because they won't have much time staying awake due to no proper ventilation and the extreme temperature of the room. They are a few doors and closets, but they will only offer so much relief.

They finally say, we are ready.

I take out an egg timer, and say "The door opens and the blistering heat hits you immediately. the alchemists hair begins to sizzle, the ones that aren't covered from the crude mask that you've formed from the clothing that you found. You barge through the door."

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR goes the timer as I wind it.
"You have 5 minutes of consciousness. If you all fade, it's game over. Starting now."

>>9603237
Reminds me of Metroid when you don't have the varia suit.

Question: what kind of dumbass dwarves build a massive magical forge and elect against using proper ventilation?

I sense a bad subcontractor involved in the construction.

>>9603326

Zombie dorfs. All they know is dig.

>>9603326
I suspect, if everything else was shut down and sealed, then I'd assume the vent system was closed up with it.

>>9603342
Well, obviously, yes. I was wondering about the first shift's foreman, who wanders up the boss and has a clipboard full of complaints largely consisting of "We keep passing out from the heat" and "We have no air and we must have some to get this iron to settle properly".

The cleric bursts through and immediantly casts a divine element, bursting a metal ladder with ice to make it bearable. Everyone scampers up it and it begins to crumble. The alchemists falls down, unable to make a save to outrace it. Time is wasting, the trick shot shoots down a rope on an arrow and holds it while the alchemists climbs up it. They are now 8 feet in the air, they have 52 more to go. They are about 6 more feet away from the second stone level. And there is a big pot in the stone that's cut out. There are chains hanging around as well. They are at their first issue. They have to climb up said metal chains, with little vision, and quickly before said metal burns them.
They each rush to an individual chain and start climing. 1 minute burned.
As they climb, suddenly, the gambler's chain gives loose. These are huge chains as well, 1 foot thick. He jumps off and barely lands on the alchemists chain. They look up in horror to see what is careening down. A huge pot that contained slag. Some of it almost hits the Spell sword and it slams to the bottom. It's contents pour out and the room spikes in temperature, burning the face of the Gambler who was looking down at it. Second degree burns around the eyes. For a bit he's blind and has to climb like this. They climb up as the room fills with slag. The Spellsword, not used to this type of heat, begins to lose his grip. The cleric, almost losing his grip, Swings to him and offer him a hand. He barely holds onto the cleric as they climb up about 10 more feet of chain and reach the second stone level. 2 minutes remain and they are only about 35 feet up. Their first check point is nearby, a small room where supplies are kept. They walk across the metal grating and barely make it in.

>>9603346
.. how?

>>9603367
MATH FUCK UPS.

They are 6 feet on scaffolding.
They need to go about 21 more feet until next grating, next stone stablinzes bot and that is 4 more feet.
They grab chains, and they get up about 10 more feet, chains gain slack they fall some.
pot above them slams into pot below, area fills with slab and they are suffering horribly.
They get to second area, halfway there.

The gambler passes out, the alchemist pulls out a potion of water he quickly made for this event and deals a small amount out to everyone. It has the potency of about 8X what it actually is. There isn't much, but it will do.
They drink and relax a second or two. This room isn't as hot, but it isn't cool either. It's like walking from a oven into a sauna. The Gambler vomits from the heat thanks to his low constitution. The cleric treats him as best as he can for his second degree burns on his eyes, but they will hinder him.

The alchemist takes a look at his once beautiful hair. He was a noble, so his looks were somewhat important to him. He went from shoulder length blonde hair to a cooked and tangled mess. He takes out his survival knife and cuts off the ball of cooked hair he had now. The cleric begins to drink the hot water, and ultimately decides that in a few minutes, the room will be unsafe. The room begins to get hotter. As this happens, the gambler becomes unstable. He's shaking and he doesn't want to go out. He's almost crying. "I don't want to go back out there. Luck's not on my side."

The trick shot looks at him. "Luck? I thought you said gambling was a skill? What are you, an ignorant peasant?"
He chuckled lightly, but was still hesitant.
I add 2 minutes of real time onto the timer as they barge out into hell again.

The second trip is horrible. The heat is so bad that the alchemists cloth around his face begins to smolder from the ambient heat. They not so much run, but stumble across the grating to their next obstacle, a flight of stone stairs revolving the room. Built into the wall, this straight flight was meant for offices, but it looks like they never got around to it. They slowly climb up. As they get to the second flight, 20 feet away from their target destination, the stone crubmles in one area, and the stairs collapes.They all grab hold to the wall as their vision blurs. The gambler vomits again, but still manages to hold on somehow. *Basically a nat 20.

They then climb to their target on the stone wall until they reach the stairs that had not collapsed. As they reach down on it, and everyone gets there, they have the first issue. The gambler, even with his adamant nature and his efforts, passes out. The stairs to the door they need are gone thanks to the heat actually affecting the brittle low quality stone that the stairs were made out of, and the only way there is by chain. The Cleric ties the gambler via a crude rope vest to him and they start climing up. They have 30 seconds now. The trick shot begins to fade, almost losing his grip as his mask slides off into the now filling slag. The slag is now melting the grating below them. 20 seconds left. The alchemist is first, and he burns his hand on the door handle opening it. 15. The cleric and gambler make it. 10. The spell sword pulls himself up onto the platform. The trick shot is losing his sight as the timer ticks down. Thinking fast, the spell sword summons a blade of flame and cuts part of the chain, causing him to jerk upwards thanks to the lose of the counter weight, grabs him, and jerks him inside.

This room is magically cooled down. It's a small hallway. The gambler vomits blood. The cleric sets him down and prepares for emergency surgery. He gets out his tools and removes his mask. He finds out that his entire larynx has been almost cooked and that he would drown on fluids in about 10 minutes unless he passed a successful selective healing spell and a Medical Skill Check. (He does. The cleric knows his shit.)

The alchemists hair begins to regrow slighty, but it will take some time. The trick shot has second degree burns all over his face from where his mask wasn't set properly and heat got in. The cleric tends to everyone's wounds and they head forward. They encounter the kitchen in a few minutes, and finally, the freezer. They camp for the night in there. The gambler to this day doesn't enter hot springs of any kind if it's past a certain degree.

I would go on, but nothing else really interesting.

Oh and the vault actually opens Via, And I'm a mean fucking bastard, Super heated water. The vault is actually Heat activated, that opens the key slot, you put in the key, and it opens. Inside was a rippling vortex. It was a door that held in a portal. Inside it was a parallel dimension in which the dwarves were fighting off the spiders still. They ended up merging realities, and saving the dwarves inside of it.

The entire thing ends up being about reality unweaving, finding stable alternate, and fusing them to the material plain in order to fix it.

I know it isn't much, but hey, hoped you liked it.

I feel bad for those players man.

Form a guild, burned members only.

>>9603615
Damn, that sounds like an excellent campaign. The timer thing is kinda dickish, but I can think of no better way to get folks to think on their feet and get shit done expediently..... Well done. Very well done.

>>9603651
Thanks. The timer was necessary. I didn't want to do limited moves, so instead I just put a real time limit.

They also ended up facing against said mother spider with about 3 dwarfs and their chieftain. 300 HP 10ft tall spider, 8 bad-asses, 1 room, Final destination.

They almost got wiped. It's final move was a willed Acid storm, in which they hid inside the vault in order to survive.

BUT WAIT.

They also had to dead with a creature that hid in darkness and meddled with their minds. It almost killed one of them by controlling his body and forcing him to almost stab himself. It was in there too when they did. Cleric barely dispelled it.

So basically, Hell run, Spider survival horror, and a F.E.A.R type monster that feeds on your sorrow and apprehension. And Dr. Who alternate realities.

...

I really need to get this shit published.

I tried the timer-as-impetus thing for my players.

It resulted in, in no particular order:
8 dead hostages
1 burned-down village
a flooded dungeon
a griffon being castrated
the release of fire-spell-enhanced beetles into a city's sewer

I expected a lot more out of the Neutral Good PCs than that.

>>9603738
Holy shit, talk...now. I got to hear this.

>>9603777

Good story dude!

>>9603738

keep it coming, I'll catch it on the archives, I'm dead tired right now though

>>9603777
Players: all roommates (4).
PCs: Rogue/Sorceror; Wizard/Cleric; Bard; Ranger.
They were the local Sheriff's appointed deputies/investigative team, usually off settling disputes, collecting witnesses, rounding up escaped prisoners, inquiring about newcomers to the community. Basically, the legal equivalent of cops and thugs, merged together. Local bandits took a small village hostage, demanded a Flying Carpet (largest possible) and a Bag of Holding (Type II+) full of precious metals/gems or they'd start offing villagers, three at a time.

They were prone to taking forever to decide on actions, so I added in a stopwatch to speed up the process. Little did I realize, half of their reasoning power wasn't based on morally-correct decisions as much as I'd hoped.

The bandits didn't expect them to use the village's duck pond as a method of egress, nor that they'd use the "big gun" they'd brought to hold the place hostage with: a magically-enhanced repeating crossbow array, set on a swivel-mount (think: +1 Repeating Crossbow of Arrow Storm). Within the first three rounds, they set up fields of fire, then opened up when the first bandits tried to kill a group of settlers held hostage. They hit the hostages with their repeated missed shots, unwilling to take a round to aim it properly. They kept firing at "anything moving" until they ran out of bolts, then switched to moving house-to-house, slashing anything armed and resistant to their battlecry: "Drop your weapons or die!"

Five further NPC villagers got killed trying to defend themselves against the soaking wet, armed, psychotic PCs.

8 hostages dead.

>>9603895
Dear christ lol.

The village incident:
Leaving their former "career" is moderate disgrace, they chose to wander a local forest, look for odd jobs, adventure, easy kills, whatever. They found a caravan group moving into the desert, carrying needed supplies. They arrived, after many encounters with robed dwarves hurling scorpion-filled pots at them, goblins hurling flaming spears and a man known as The Plaguemaster General declaring he would unleash an epic pandemic in their name unless they gave him their money. Make a note of his name, for later.

They arrive at the town, to find it is a huge caldera, with four immense chains holding the city up over a giant, barren field of blasted landscape, like a dead volcano.

Said city was called "Testudo".

It was a Zaratan, trapped in a desert, kept alive by a very, very misguided order of Cleric/Druid-types.

A Zaratan, in short, is a gigantic turtle. Some have settlements on their back. In this case, it was large enough to support a city and a medium-sized village (with the village being underneath it, in its shadow: the poor people tended to live there, as were the undesirable industries located there). The PCs, being the good sports they are, elected to free the gigantic turtle.

They evacuated the city, sending everyone away with gifts they'd gotten from befriending local nomads who harvested gems from random snake-like critters, plus stuff they'd boosted from the earlier encounters. When it boiled down to it, they cut the chains...
... and it landed on the village below.

On to the crude oil refinery.

The turtle died screaming, loudly, slowly, cursing their names.

You know you've fucked up when a 10,000 year-old turtle the size of an airport thinks you suck.

They proceed to run like Hell, heading deep into the Underdark. In one of the rarer moments of clarity, the Ranger says, "...we're screwed. Running into a Drow-infested netherworld is actually a move which could save our lives." Laughter ensued. Nearby Drow overhear this, are officially intrigued. They make a polite inquiry, enjoying a brief bit of sport before they engage in the ages-old pastime of the Drow, "Kill the not-us-people." The Drow figure its good for laughs, take 'em to meet their local judge-advocate. She listens to their stories, gives it some thought, then offers them the chance to be allowed to settle: give up one of their party and they only have to complete four nigh-impossible tasks, instead of the usual eight.

Tasks one through seven go off with limited hitches, as they have elected to keep party integrity instead of making it easier on the survivors.

Task eight is to find a local group of Duegar and convince them to send tribute to the Drow again or face the wrath of the PCs. Needless to say, this is where the fun really starts.

An example of their "diplomacy style":
PC 1: "Send the Drow cash or you'll drown in blood and ash."
Duegar: "Never going to happen."
PC 2: <fires arrow into Duegar's head, boom-headshot>
PC 1: "People without arrows in the head can now enter the debate."
PC 2: <reloads bow>

The discussions went downhill quickly.

During the ensuing riots, they hid in a bio-alchemists' school, with the Rogue pulling the mother of all Bluff/Diplomacy rolls, declaring the PCs were visiting scholars and entourage, bearing gifts for the headmasters. A quick introduction later, they're outed as spies for a rival school (incorrectly). They are KO'd, bound and wake up facedown on a metal grill, overlooking a huge pit of squirming beetles, the smell of sulfur in the air.

I'm still pouring through the archived stories. I just wanted to interject that if you mother fuckers live anywhere near south east pennsylvania I will be incredibly pissed that I have yet to meet you.

The only time I was near a DnD group the spent 20 minutes deciding whether or not to knock on the door of an abandoned house. After that I spent the night playing guitar hero with my buddy's girlfriend. She was equally annoyed by those retards.

The PCs escape, barely, using a creative interpretation of a Stilled cantrip spell, and steal stuff on their way out. One of the things they stole was a weird rug-like thing, metal fabric visible; the other thing they stole (beyond some random low-level stuff) was a sealed metal canister marked "Do Not Open Within 100mi. Of Sentient Lifeforms".

Two guesses which one they played with first?

So, when the beetles erupted out of the canister, they ran for their lives. Turns out, it contained a fast-breeding version of a beetle that feeds off of lumber and meat (in equal enthusiasm). They erupt into flame (1pt. of fire-based damage) when threatened. When killed (through conventional methods) they erupt into 1d4 damage each. Multiply by the number appearing. You see where this is going.

They rampaged around, inadvertently leading the massive, growing carpet of fiery beetles through multiple settlements, evacuating whom they could. Technically, they didn't cause the fires involved, but they were not able to weasel out of what happened at the local river dam. Thinking ahead, they ran as fast as possible to the local river dam, then made a heroic last stand, using a massive collection of insect-killing methods and tools, until the massive amount of insects invaded the wooden dam.

...and the leader of the PCs sprayed the last of the oil on them and stomped hard on the first bug he saw.

The dam erupted into flames, the bugs all but completely died off and the flood waters carried away the remainder it didn't outright crush/drown. Spread out, it only caused minor fires, which were easily extinguished.

..then the local lich rose from his tomb, pissed off, looking for whomever it was who just sent a 9,000 hectacre lake into his dungeon demense.

The ensuing hijinks went from "good-natured fun" directly into "crimes against nature".

The griffin incident could be described as "botched Ride roll" and "PC smartassery". Strangely, they caught more over that than the other chaos they were sowing, as they were rarely remembered after the fact, until they gelded a prize-winning racing griffon on accident.

That, folks, is why I don't use stopwatches around those idiots anymore.

Finis.

>>9603738
>>9603829
>>9603895
>>9603955
>>9603991
>>9604031
>>9604082
>>9604290
>>9604311
this shit is magical. this is why i want to play RPGs lol

Bump

>>9599919
>And then, Bob, to get his way, casts Suggestion on Frak. (Read: DM used it on a player).

Whether or not that's bad depends on context. In combat, I think it's okay - telling one of the players to go stop reinforcements who are coming while in fact directing them to the ogre barracks. Out of combat? No.